


My Only Offer

by stardropdream



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuuma's bike breaks down and Kamui has a rare moment of charity (at least he likes to call it a rare moment). Though it's true that even Kamui has his moments of spontaneous decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Only Offer

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ October 26, 2009.

That man’s scent had been on the wind for hours now. And yet he never came closer. It was tiresome, Kamui thought to himself, and annoying as hell. He waited, shoulders tense, on the upper, exposed level of the building. He waited for that scent to grow closer, and yet it never did. He kept expecting him to appear over the wreckage of a destroyed world, driving that same vehicle and smiling that same pasted smile.   
  
His eyes were narrow after the first hour. He was livid after the second.   
  
He stood abruptly as the time approached a third hour—the exact time was unknown to Kamui, he didn’t have a clock in this world.   
  
The land reflected the dying sunlight. He turned to Kusanagi, whose eyebrows were arched questioningly. Kamui growled, “Guard the water.”   
  
“Always,” the man responded kindly, smiling.   
  
Kamui moved away, out into the light of day, hood covering his head. It was a personal choice, unrelated to his own nature, that made him despise the sunlight of this world. He despised all things of this world, especially the man he was currently moving towards. The people behind in the tower felt him a savior, and he felt like no such thing. He was protecting Subaru, nothing more. He wanted to keep moving, but he would never abandon his twin. The fact that he happened to be guarding others and helping others while pursuing his brother’s safety… that was irrelevant. This is what he repeated to himself every day, a mantra of sorts. _It’s only until Subaru is free._   
  
He ran through the rubble of the world, sun beating on his back, eyes narrowed as he sought out the smell. That man was in their territory, alone. Why, he could not gather. His inability to approach the building they resided in was suspicious enough as it was.   
  
He breeched the top of a hill and saw him at the bottom, hunched over the hover bike his people used. He stood there, glaring down at him, arms crossed and eyebrows knotted angrily at the junction above his nose.  
  
“You,” he said forcefully.   
  
Instead of jumping, as perhaps Kamui had secretly hoped, or stiffening at his harsh greeting, the man merely straightened, dusting back his fringe and looking up at him over the rims of blood red glasses.   
  
He smiled that same, hollow smile he always smiled. A smile that curled and twisted across his face and yet never quite reached his eyes.   
  
“Hello, Kamui.”   
  
“What are you doing here?” he snapped, keeping his distance and his stance defensive.   
  
The man wiped his chin free of sweat and licked his lips. He seemed to think deeply over the vampire’s question, as if he’d been asked something incredibly profound. The smile still twisted his face, almost unnaturally, and the way the sun glinted off his glasses and paled his skin made him seem almost like he were to blend into the landscape.   
  
“Well?” Kamui growled when he received no answer. “You’re in our territory. Leave at once.”   
  
“Am I?” Fuuma asked, rubbing his hand over his forehead to wipe away the sweat there. The sun setting behind Kamui made him seem darker, standing up on that hill, Fuuma in shadow.   
  
“Yes,” Kamui hissed, and had to concentrate on not letting the gold seep into his vision. His identity was secret here, no matter what. He could not compromise Subaru. Not here. Not in front of this man.   
  
“Hm. That explains why Kamui just couldn’t wait to find me.”  
  
“I’ve been waiting for you to show up for three hours,” Kamui grouched.   
  
Fuuma’s eyebrows lifted, and with his hand in his hair, Kamui could watch their arch upwards, trace the line of his brow and the sparkle in his eyes as if he’d said something particularly amusing.   
  
“Is that so?” Fuuma chuckled, and dropped his hand to his hip, his free hand resting on the handlebars of his bike. That smirk was unnerving. Kamui despised it. Fuuma titled his head back to look up at Kamui on the apex of the hill. “I hadn’t meant to keep you waiting, Kamui.”   
  
“Just get the hell out of this place before I kill you.”  
  
“Ah,” Fuuma said, as if Kamui hadn’t said what he always said. “I’d be happy to.”  
  
“But…” Kamui said with what could have been a sigh. He was too used to this man’s tone to expect anything less.   
  
“But my bike broke down.”  
  
“Then walk back.”  
  
“Cute,” Fuuma said with only the smallest hint of annoyance seeping into his tone. Instead, he straddled his bike and pointed towards where the latch was open, revealing the engine. “I’ve been trying to fix it since it broke down. But, you know, parts aren’t readily available in this place.”  
  
“I don’t care. Fix it and leave.”  
  
“I’ve been trying to do just that,” Fuuma lamented with an absent wave of his hand in Kamui’s direction, dismissive. Kamui’s eyes narrowed and his hands balled into fists as the man continued, “But I’m remaining cheerfully optimistic that it’ll be fixed by nightfall.”  
  
“Maybe a mutant will eat you and all our problems will be solved,” Kamui muttered.  
  
“You’re incredibly jolly today,” Fuuma observed, resting his chin in his hand, leaning over the handlebars and looking up at Kamui. “I wonder how _anyone_ could hate you, Kamui.”   
  
“Whether they hate me or not is irrelevant.”  
  
“Hm hm,” Fuuma hummed, smirking up at him.  
  
It infuriated Kamui. He stomped down the hill towards the man and Fuuma’s eyebrows skyrocketed upwards, watching him approach. Kamui stopped a liberal distance away from Fuuma, just glaring at him.   
  
“Fix your stupid bike and get out of here,” Kamui hissed.   
  
“You’ve said that already,” Fuuma said with a sigh and what Kamui would almost call disappointment, had it been coming from anyone else. Kamui’s eyes narrowed and he huffed silently.   
  
“Well, you aren’t listening.”   
  
“I’m trying to,” Fuuma said with forced cheeriness as he bent over the engine again. “I’m not that thrilled with the situation either, I’ll have you know.”  
  
“Could have fooled me.”  
  
“It’s not good to be outside unprotected during the night.”   
  
Kamui watched the shadows growing around them as the sun sunk lower and lower. Rain clouds loomed in the distance. He snorted. “If you’re lucky it’ll rain and you won’t have to worry about the mutants.”   
  
“Is Kamui concerned?”   
  
“If you die too close to the building your corpse will stink up the place.”   
  
“And we all know how sensitive Kamui’s nose is,” Fuuma said absently, twisting a screw deep in the confines of the engine chamber. Kamui stiffened, watching his profile for any deeper meaning to that. Something stirred within him, and his comment did not sit well in the pit of his stomach.  
  
“…Tch,” he said instead of the thousands of questions that shot through his mind in that moment. “If you have to die, go do it in your own territory.”   
  
“Noted, Kamui,” Fuuma said dismissively, focusing now on the engine.   
  
Kamui bit back a dark growl and just crossed his arms, glaring at him. Fuuma worked silently, not looking up again and instead focusing on tinkering with the bike’s engine. The sun continued to sink and Kamui watched the growing shadows and the pursuit of clouds covering the foreign stars in the sky warily.   
  
“You know,” Fuuma said after a long while, “Instead of standing there glaring at me, you could help.”  
  
“I’m waiting here until you leave.”   
  
“You’ll probably be here a while,” Fuuma admitted with a small sigh, wiping his brow with an arm.   
  
“It’s going to rain.”   
  
Fuuma swiveled his head, looking towards where the clouds hung over their heads, threatening rain at any moment. He released a long, suffering sigh.   
  
“So it would seem.” He straightened with a deep, aggravated breath. “I guess it can’t be helped. At least with the rain the mutants won’t come out. I guess I should take my chance and get back to the tower.”   
  
“You won’t make it.”   
  
“You almost sound like you care, Kamui.”   
  
Kamui glared at him. “I do not.”   
  
There was a long, tense silence when Kamui caught a couple words in his throat, debating the weight of their meaning. Fuuma was dusting himself off and glanced up at him, noting his expression.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“…You can stay in the building.”   
  
Fuuma stared at him in such a deadpan way that Kamui immediately hated himself for saying it, or for even thinking it in the first place. He pursed his lips and stiffened, staring back petulantly. They stood there, looking at one another, waiting for the other to say something. Kamui instantly regretted his words, but it was too late to take it back, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the expression Fuuma was giving him. Kamui pursed his lips. Fuuma’s eyebrows moved upwards and he smiled slowly.  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Shut up. Forget it.” Kamui huffed to himself, uncrossing his arms and bending his knees, in a defensive stance, ready to lunge at the other man should the need arise.   
  
Fuuma just watched him.   
  
Kamui glared right back.   
  
“…Alright,” Fuuma said after a thoughtful pause. “I can fix my bike in the morning.”  
  
“I said forget it.”  
  
“So mean. I guess I’ll just die out here tonight.”  
  
Kamui’s right eye twitched and his lips pursed further, into what could be considered a pout. He swallowed an angry sigh of painful suffering. The things he had to put up with.   
  
“Just don’t get any funny ideas. You’ll be going there as a prisoner.”   
  
“Sure,” Fuuma said and it was clear he did not believe Kamui. “That works.”   
  
  
\---  
  
  
As soon as Fuuma set foot on the first level of the governmental building, there were crossbows pointed straight at him. He laughed and Kamui glared at the ground. Fuuma waved to the other hooded figures, poised precariously on the rubble in the building.   
  
“It’s fine,” Kamui growled. “But stay on guard.”   
  
Crossbows hesitantly lowered and Kamui glared at the ground, cursing his luck and cursing his rash decision to allow that man here. It was a total breech of the unspoken contract between the two territories. And most of all, it brought such a dangerous person closer and closer to the water—and to Subaru.   
  
Kamui heaved a heavy sigh. And yet he couldn’t just leave the man to roam around and do what he wished. He would have to keep him in his sights at all times, in a place where he couldn’t escape if he tried anything.   
  
…The only suitable place was the reservoir. Kamui hated himself for thinking it.   
  
  
\---  
  
  
He sat at the edge of the reservoir, just like he always did. One leg bent, one arm slung over the knee, chin resting on a bent hand and staring in the watery depths distantly. The room was perfectly still and perfectly silent, and Kamui could mark the passing of time only through his breathing and heartbeat.   
  
But this time, the only difference was that there was a second heartbeat he could hear, a second pair of lungs breathing in and out slowly.   
  
Fuuma rested against a pillar marking one of the corners of the reservoir, watching Kamui silently, all too knowing eyes peering at him over the top of his sunglasses. Kamui tried to ignore him, but he could feel the gaze on him and it was more than aggravating.   
  
He focused on his brother, stranded alone beneath the water’s surface. He felt the familiar clench in his chest, knowing that with every passing day that man drew ever closer and that with every passing day it was another day that he was without Subaru.   
  
He glanced at Fuuma out of the corner of his eye.   
  
“What do you want?” Kamui growled and his voice echoed in the empty chamber.   
  
The man watched him silently for a moment before saying quietly, “When you look at that water your eyes are very sad.”   
  
Kamui felt the warning flags flare up in his head and he recoiled a bit, staring at him in disbelief before smoothing his face into one of a familiar anger. “Shut up,” he snapped. “Don’t look at me.”  
  
“I like looking at you,” Fuuma said with a shrug, his words benign.   
  
Kamui sputtered inwardly and straightened his shoulders and standing up, striding the few feet between them to stand in front of the seated man, glaring down at him with blue eyes—and it took all of Kamui’s strength not to let his eyes flare a bright yellow.   
  
“Must you always smile so obnoxiously like that?” Kamui hissed.   
  
Fuuma’s smile only widened and Kamui hated himself for rising to this man’s bait, to allow himself to become so angry, so expressive, around him. He had to remain calm, he had to remain in control because if he allowed himself one moment of vulnerability, that would be it. That was the way this world worked. That was the way that Fuuma worked.   
  
“And what’s so obnoxious about my smile?” Fuuma asked, innocent.   
  
“…You’re not as inexpressive as you think you are.”   
  
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
“You wouldn’t.”   
  
There was a long silence, with only the low hum of Fuuma’s steady heartbeat thumping in the background of Kamui’s mind. They looked up at each other and something glinted in the shadows of Fuuma’s eyes, and it did not settle well with the vampire.   
  
“In a—” Kamui bit back the word ‘human’, and corrected, “In a person’s face, there’s always a moment that cannot be suppressed. It’s too fast to detect for most.” But he could always see it. He could always tell when someone was lying, and Fuuma was always lying. And always smiling. “But no matter how skilled you are, I know that there is something behind that smile of yours.”   
  
Fuuma hummed slowly in the back of his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose until his golden brown eyes were hidden behind the blood-colored frames, regarding him thoughtfully and his face almost painfully blank, save for the smile that curled across his features.   
  
“I hadn’t realized Kamui was looking at me so closely,” Fuuma murmured, but he may as well have shouted for the impact the words had on Kamui, and the way his lightly whispered words bounced across the reservoir chamber.   
  
He couldn’t work his way behind that smile. He knew it wasn’t real, he knew it was a lie. But he couldn’t tell what it was that it was concealing. Even if he could recognize that there was more than he could see, he couldn’t begin to understand.   
  
He hated it.   
  
“…And what is it that you see?” Fuuma asked, drawing Kamui away from his thoughts.   
  
Kamui hesitated, and then admitted, “I don’t know.”  
  
Fuuma seemed to find this a satisfactory answer because his smile almost softened and his glasses slipped back down his nose a fraction of an inch.   
  
“Good to know, Kamui.”   
  
  
\---  
  
  
They sat for hours in silence.   
  
It was odd. It was the longest Kamui had gone in the other man’s presence without the wall of a fight between them, without that one layer of separation. He could feel his eyes on his back as he peered into the water sadly, his thoughts drifting from one after another but never focusing or lingering for long. He couldn’t afford to linger.   
  
“Don’t you sleep?” Kamui finally snapped out.  
  
“Don’t you?” Fuuma replied.   
  
Kamui bit at the inside of his cheek to shoot back that he didn’t need to sleep as much as a normal human. He settled on his customary glare, which Fuuma returned with a closed eyed smile. Kamui already regretted having the hunter stay here, and those smiles were more than unnerving, at best.   
  
“I do when I don’t have prisoners sitting knee-deep in enemy territory,” Kamui growled.  
  
“You make it sound so dramatic.”  
  
“Tch.”   
  
Fuuma laughed, tilting his head to one side as he watched Kamui. Kamui pretended not to notice.   
  
“Is there ever a time you don’t lie?” Kamui asked, resuming their conversation from hours earlier. He eyed Fuuma, eyed the smile he couldn’t penetrate.   
  
“I always lie,” Fuuma said quietly, after a thoughtful silence. He didn’t elaborate. He merely watched Kamui’s face, waiting to see how the other would react to such a statement.   
  
Kamui eyed him. “Are you lying right now?”   
  
Fuuma was silent before asking, “What do you think?”   
  
Kamui stood and marched over towards him, eyes narrowed and body tensing up with every approaching step. Fuuma didn’t move, but his eyes followed him as the vampire came closer and closer. Fuuma raised one eyebrow up at him in expectation when the other one stopped in front of him, body tense and arms crossed.   
  
“Yes?” Fuuma asked.   
  
Kamui dropped down to the ground so that they were level with one another. His eyebrows knitted together in frustration as he studied Fuuma’s face, trying to see what was underneath it all. Fuuma did not comply to his demands and remained perfectly masked, smiling and betraying nothing in his expression or his eyes.   
  
Kamui was stubborn, and continued to study him.   
  
“I hate you,” Kamui decided.   
  
Fuuma chuckled, and Kamui hated his smirk more than his smile. “Of course you do.”  
  
“What the hell do you mean by that?”   
  
“Guess,” Fuuma invited him.   
  
Kamui sputtered. “You—”  
  
Instead of continuing further with words, Kamui shoved against Fuuma, pushing him up against the wall and moving closer so that they were sharing the same air. If anything, this just made Fuuma’s smug smile loosen and it only pissed Kamui off more. He glared daggers at the human, pushing hard against him so he was pinned against the wall.   
  
Fuuma’s response was merely to smile. “Can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”  
  
“Shut up,” Kamui growled.   
  
“Admit it,” Fuuma told him, voice coming out much softer than before, almost breathless as he peered up at Kamui. The proximity between them was small. “You like having me around.”   
  
“Shut up,” Kamui said again.  
  
“You didn’t deny it,” Fuuma pointed out and Kamui realized dimly that Fuuma’s hands were on his shoulders, not pulling him closer but also not pushing him away either. Just resting. The human looked amused.  
  
Kamui’s eyes narrowed. “I do not like having you around.”   
  
“That’s better,” Fuuma said with a laugh. “I’d be concerned if Kamui started to like me.”   
  
“And why is that?”   
  
“Your hatred is so entertaining,” Fuuma told him.   
  
“I am not here to be entertainment for you,” Kamui snapped and recoiled a bit. The hands on his shoulders forced him close again, so that he could feel Fuuma’s breath as he spoke.   
  
“I know you aren’t, but you do anyway,” Fuuma said, and Kamui supposed that somehow that was meant to pacify him. He glared. Fuuma chuckled. “So what are you going to do?”  
  
“What do you plan to do?” Kamui shot back, lips pressed into a firm line.   
  
Fuuma raised one eyebrow at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”   
  
Kamui’s eyes narrowed further, so that they were small, angry slits.   
  
Fuuma chuckled. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”   
  
The hands on his shoulders shifted, slid over his back and gripped his hips in a way that not even Kamui could be mistaken over. His eyes widened a fraction of an inch before narrowing further again, glaring at the hunter.   
  
But he also didn’t pull away.   
  
Fuuma stared at him. Kamui stared back, expression unreadable a moment.   
  
He weighed the hunter’s words, wondering just how it’d become like this, and why he was not pulling away as quickly as he should have.   
  
“You aren’t leaving,” Fuuma pointed out.   
  
“I guess I’m not,” Kamui snapped. “What are you going to do about it?”   
  
Fuuma didn’t answer, just looked smug again.   
  
“I absolutely and completely despise you,” Kamui hissed as Fuuma pressed his lips against the corner of Kamui’s mouth.  
  
“I know,” Fuuma whispered, and shifted so that their mouths were pressed together properly.   
  
Kamui knew that he should push him away, attack this bastard of a man. The night air was too thick and they were enemies. Kamui couldn’t stay here. This wouldn’t last, and most of all, there was no way he could ever trust this smiling man. This man who never truly smiled.   
  
Fuuma opened his mouth and Kamui deepened the kiss before he could even realize he was doing it. A hand grasped the back of Fuuma’s head possessively and pulled him closer. Fuuma hummed against his mouth and Kamui felt arms wrapping around his waist, tethering them together.   
  
And it was in that one moment that something clenched within Kamui and he couldn’t suppress the thought, _I don’t want him to stop._   
  
And that, above all else, was the most horrifying of all.   
  
  
\---  
  
  
When he woke up in the morning, one of the governmental building’s bikes was missing an engine and only Fuuma’s scent lingered.  
  
The people of the governmental building noticed the agitation in their leader, and attested it to the prisoner escaping in the early morning. Kamui was irritable, snapped at everyone who moved and was generally found staring moodily at the reservoir (moodier than usual, at least.) He didn’t speak to anyone. He glared at anyone who moved too close. Guarded.   
  
When the people from the tower arrived, Kamui’s teammates were sure it would only serve to make their leader angrier.   
  
Kamui was there to greet Fuuma and the others and without even letting Fuuma say a word, dove at him, angry and launching towards him. Fuuma responded in kind, whirling around and dodging the other’s attacks.   
  
The arms wrapped around him, holding him close so that Fuuma’s nose grazed over Kamui’s ear and he whispered, “Did you miss me?”  
  
“Never,” Kamui hissed. To anyone around, the word sounded angry, desperately hateful. But Fuuma only smiled smugly at Kamui’s answer.   
  
They fought, just as they always did. They moved around one another, calculated and measured steps breezing past one another. Sweeping, ducking, hunting, pushing. Drawing closer and backing away.   
  
After the people of the tower left, the others noticed the way that Kamui moved a bit less rigidly, and was almost pleasant in comparison to his behavior of the last few days.   
  
It was another example as to why no one would ever really understand what went through their leader’s head.


End file.
